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HP: The Otherworlder

An endless void. A sea of black in which the passing of time holds no meaning. Then suddenly… light. But wait, why can’t he remember his name? Why are foreign memories of a boy named Tom Riddle Jr flooding his mind? Most importantly, why does the man with red eyes staring back at him feel so dangerous? 
Enter SI OC, Edmund Cole, shoved into the body of a young Tom Riddle in the summer of 1993… DISCLAIMER: I do not own the art or the literary works upon which this fanfiction is based. All rights belong to Zara H (@za_ra_h_ on Twitter) & J.K. Rowling, respectively.

BS6SC · Book&Literature
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94 Chs

CH17 - The Burke Family Curse

Edmund woke up gradually, as if he was gaining consciousness for the first time after being in a long coma. His senses had to learn how to work again, and the process was a slow one. His blurry vision came into focus around the same time that his hearing finally kicked in again. He was welcomed back into the land of the living by the sight of a distinctive white ceiling.

'The hospital wing?' he questioned, still feeling hazy.

Then it hit him all at once. The terror that he had undergone, and the horrifying ease with which he had slipped back into being nothing.

He shuddered violently, twisting in his sheets as he writhed. Had he possessed enough control over his movements, perhaps he would have sprained himself with the abrupt jerkiness of his movements. Instead, he only wriggled pathetically.

'Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it,' he chanted, trying to focus on anything else that could give him a distraction.

Looking around the large room, he noticed it was much fuller than he had ever seen it in the past. The set of twenty or so beds with privacy curtains that normally graced the wing were gone. In their place, a makeshift camp full of almost one hundred stretchers was now present.

All around the room, children were crying. Some quietly and stoically, others full-on blubbering uncontrollably. Almost everyone awake had a cup of hot chocolate in their hands, shaking with tremors as they moved about.

A lucky few teens with magical parents affluent enough to take a day off were sitting curled up with their guardians, grateful for the support they offered. Most, however, had no comfort but that which their fellow students could offer.

A young girl that Edmund recognized as a classmate from Ravenclaw was grasping onto a stuffed rabbit with all her strength as her jaw vibrated from clenching too hard. As Edmund watched on, Madam Pomfrey came up to her, squeezing her hand sympathetically before offering a potion. The girl took the concoction quickly, falling asleep soon after.

Edmund's eyes shifted to the run-down medi-witch, constantly running from patient to patient without a second to waste. His gaze still trained on her, he realized Pomfrey was moving to him, a cup in her hand.

He took it from her without a word, uncaring about the concern on her face.

The situation in hand, his attention had turned completely to his Hufflepuff year mates, none of whom were yet awake.

Over the course of the next thirty minutes, they each woke up in the same fashion as him.

First stretching calmly, then going pale-faced with panic, before finally landing on a frown as their memories caught up to them.

Conversation was carried out halfheartedly between the six of them, each member trying to spark up the mood of despondency. Unfortunately, good cheer was hard to create artificially.

Tears continued to trail down Cecilia's cheeks for hours afterward, mixing in with the cocoa she was downing valiantly.

Eventually, they were all reluctantly let go of by Madam Pomfrey. Resources were limited, but the need was plenty. The medi-witch may have desired to keep them all for overnight observation, but she simply wasn't capable of doing so.

The woman was near tears when she had to explain to each student she discharged that the dreamless sleep she had in stock was simply not enough to go around. The precious potion was instead being prioritized for those in serious condition, still stuck in the ward.

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Edmund jolted back into wakefulness for the fifth time in the night. His body was tired, demanding sleep, but his brain couldn't seem to comply. Falling asleep was far too much like the sensation he was most afraid of. Whenever his eyelids began to droop, his dread would snap them open once more.

'There's no point putting myself through this again and again,' Edmund thought to himself, throwing the covers off his body. 'I'm not going to fall asleep, not tonight.'

Quietly putting on his flannel robes, he headed into the common room, casting Tempus along the way.

2:27 AM.

The hour was late, or well, early. Which was why Edmund was surprised not to find himself alone in front of the fireplace. There, sitting for who knows how long, was Cecilia, staring off into nothingness.

As his footsteps approached her, she turned her head his way. Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, showing the same tiredness that was no doubt reflected in Edmund's own.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked for lack of a better opener, his voice still rough and scratchy.

She shook her head, swallowing loudly, before turning away again.

They sat like that for a while, together on the couch, each in their own world.

And so Edmund was surprised when Cecilia elected to speak up, her voice close to breaking with each word she uttered.

"Most people don't know why the Burke family never joined the Dark Lord," she began out of nowhere.

Edmund looked at Cecilia intently, willing her to continue.

"A rich, pureblood member of the sacred twenty-eight who believes that mudbloods threaten the livelihood of good wizarding folk. Sounds like the perfect candidate for a death eater, doesn't it?" she asked rhetorically with a bitter smile. "But no. The Burkes never even considered the notion."

"We knew that Lord V-Voldemort was not who he said he was. He was no true Slytherin as he proclaimed himself to be. He was only a half-blood. A half-blood descendant of Salazar Slytherin," Cecilia said, watching for Edmund's reaction.

His eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. Voldemort's heritage was a well-kept secret, known only to a select few people. Cecilia's awareness of this information was not something he had anticipated.

Satisfied, Cecilia nodded, going on with her story.

"My grand-uncle Caractacus, my grandfather's brother, was the first to meet him. Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. his name was. An intern shopkeeper at Borgin and Burkes for several years after graduating from Hogwarts before he disappeared. The next time he would come out to the public, it would be as the Dark Lord," Cecilia spat.

"But that was alright," she said earnestly. "Really. The Burkes, rooted in pureblood supremacy though we may be, knew even then that Tom was powerful. Never did we think to out his lies or oppose him in any way. We may not have liked him, but his cause was desirable for the Burkes."

"But he was not so happy to leave us alone," Cecilia intoned sourly. "He wanted us to suffer. For you see, only a few months before the Dark Lord's birth, his mother had come into Borgin and Burkes. The woman was destitute, and my grand-uncle a greedy man. Knowing her need, he swindled her out of her belongings, including a genuine heirloom of one of the four founders."

"Can you imagine?" she asked incredulously. "An artifact worth thousands of galleons, given away for only ten? It was a robbery! But as I said, the woman was desperate. With the money, she managed to survive the duration of her pregnancy, but was never able to afford the care she needed. She passed away during childbirth, leaving her son behind to fend for himself."

"And so, when he grew powerful enough to do so, the Dark Lord came back for his revenge," Cecilia said, fully sniffling now. "He cursed us to suffer the same fate his mother had. 'As long as I live, all women who give birth to a child of Burke blood will not survive to see their offspring.' Those were his words. And back then, the Dark Lord was considered immortal. The curse was a death sentence for house Burke."

"My father is a good man. He had resolved himself early on that his line would end with him. But my mother," Cecilia said fondly, "she was far too headstrong to care about any of that. She loved him, she married him, and when they found out she was with child, she decided to keep it. Decided to keep me."

"I suppose I should feel lucky," Cecilia admitted, though her tone was hateful. "Voldemort had been banished for several years before I was born. The magic of the curse was weakened. When my mother survived my birth, the family was ecstatic. They believed the curse was broken. But they were wrong."

"As the years went on, my mother weakened. I watched, as day by day she grew closer to death. I was the living reminder of the cause of her grim fate," she sobbed. "But she still was so good to me! So kind. So loving. In her last moments, I was in her thoughts. She held me close to her. Made me promise to live. To be happy," Cecilia cried out brokenly.

"And I try! I try every day to make her proud. But I can't help but think... Was her sacrifice worth it? Am I worth it?!" she wailed, snarling as she tried to wipe away her tears futilely.

Edmund didn't respond with words, choosing instead to wrap the girl up in a hug. He held her close to him, trying to convey his sympathy, his compassion, and his understanding. Cecilia held him just as tightly, crying into his shoulder. Her tears formed a wet patch on his shirt collar, but he paid it no mind.

His mind whirled as Edmund thought of all he had heard. His heart ached for Cecilia, his first true friend. She meant so much to him, and it hurt to see her in pain.

As the minutes went on and silence reigned once more, Edmund's thoughts drifted to his own experience with the dementors.

The void scared him. And it would likely always continue to do so. But he couldn't cower from it. He couldn't live his life fearful of theoreticals. Of what had been. Or what could be. Just like Cecilia, he would try to live. Especially considering that with each day he spent in the world, he found he had more to live for. He refused to lose what he had gained.

He thought back over the past several months. Of McGonagall, and her stern, unwilling smiles. Of Cecilia, and the playful banter he shared with her. Of Ben and Jeremy, and the camaraderie he had with them. Most of all, he thought of the happiness each of them brought him.

Allowing the feeling to fill him to the brim, he withdrew his wand from its holster, letting it slip into his hands.

"Expecto Patronum," he whispered quietly.

A thick white mist escaped from his wand, coalescing into its corporeal form for the very first time.

A massive jaguar greeted him, growling and roaring, its mouth open wide. The majestic animal prowled around the duo, searching for enemies. Fierce and proud, the jaguar was an apex predator. Fast and deadly, but also cautious, willing to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

However, as he watched more mist coming out, none of this crossed Edmund's mind. The cloudlike substance being formed slowly wrapped the two of them like a cloak, filling them with jubilation and a sense of belonging.

Letting out a happy sigh, they finally fully relaxed for the first time since they had woken up. Now that their bad memories had been chased away, the two felt the full force of the exhaustion they had been suppressing. Yawning and stretching, it didn't take long for them to pass out.

All the while, they were still being protected by the ever-watchful gaze of Edmund's new guardian.

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As you may have noticed, my diction is decent, while my syntax is awful. Please do not hesitate to point out any mistakes I make with a paragraph comment or a general chapter comment!

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